Child of the Mountains (23 page)

I wanted to ask Mrs. Nowling about being there, but I didn’t think it would be polite. I was just glad to see her again. I sat between her and Miss Parker, but we didn’t have a chance to talk afore dinner, ’cause Miss Parker was busy telling people what to expect during the trial.

Miss Parker offered to order for me. I said sure on account of not knowing what a lot of that stuff was on the menu. She ordered me a steak, a baked potato with sour cream, broccoli and cheese, and a salad with Thousand Island dressing. For dessert I had something called Boston cream pie. That Boston cream pie was even better than hot chocolate at Kresge’s 5 and 10! At first I thought it was just yellow cake with chocolate icing, but it also had vanilla pudding like Gran used to make in the middle of it. Yum!

I ain’t never had steak afore. It was so tender I barely
had to chew—a little salty and real moist. I said a inside thank-you to the cow that gived up its life for my meal. Gran learned me and BJ to do that. Mama said it was on account of Gran’s Cherokee blood that she had so much caring for animals and the land. My great-grandmother was a full-blooded Indian. I feel right proud about that.

When we started eating dessert, Jake’s mama turned to me. “Lydia, I’m glad you sat beside me,” she said. “I have some things I want to tell you. I visited your mother in prison yesterday.”

“You got to talk to her?”

“Yes, I visited for as long as they allowed—about twenty minutes.”

“What did she say?”

“She wanted me to tell you how much she loves and misses you. Then we talked about what happened to your brother. I told her how sad I was when I read the article about her and BJ. My cousin sent it to me in Alabama. I was so thankful Miss Parker contacted me about coming up here to speak at the new trial. That woman who registered patients at the hospital did the same thing to my husband and me that she did to your family. She told us not to bother reading the contract because we wouldn’t be able to understand it.”

“What did you do?”

“I skimmed it as quickly as I could, but like your mother, I knew signing that paper, whatever it said, was the only way to get Jake into the hospital. That woman kept sighing, shaking her head, and tapping a pencil while
I tried to read it. When I asked a question, she said, ‘Do you want him in the study or not?’ I signed. I doubt that she told those rich white folks who came to her office not to read the contract.”

“I didn’t know that happened to you, too.”

“When Jake and BJ were in the hospital together, your mother and I talked about the way that woman treated us. Sarah told Miss Parker about our conversation. I think I’m going to be able to help your mother tomorrow, Lydia.”

“Thank you,” I said. Afore I thought twice, I scooted my chair back and reached over to hug her.

She hugged me, too. Then she smoothed my hair behind my ear with her hand and smiled at me. I didn’t get the ponytail tight enough and some strands of my hair had come out. “You know, Lydia, Jake’s sister, Janine, is only a year younger than you. I don’t think you ever got to meet her. She always stayed at my cousin’s house when we went to the hospital because she was too young to visit Jake. You two have a lot in common.”

“We sure do. Just like you and Mama and BJ and Jake.”

Mrs. Nowling nodded. “That’s true. Your mother and I have so much in common that for a few minutes yesterday we didn’t talk at all. She put her hand to the glass that separated us, and I put my hand up to hers, almost touching but not quite. But all that we shared in our hearts connected.”

“That sounds real special.”

“It was. It meant a lot to both of us, Lydia. We took comfort from each other.” She smiled, and then she pulled
a piece of paper out of her purse and handed it to me. “I wrote down my daughter’s name and address. I thought you might like to write to her. Janine stayed behind with her father so she wouldn’t miss school. I’m going to have to leave as soon as the trial is over, so we probably won’t have a chance to talk again. I’m a teacher, and I need to get back to my students. I had to stop teaching when we took Jake to Ohio, but the Negro school where I live in Alabama desperately needs qualified teachers. I went back as soon as I could.”

“Mr. Hinkle said he read in the newspaper that the Supreme Court is trying to decide whether to make a law that there can’t be no more separate Negro schools. He said iffen they pass that law, Negro children and white children will go to school together, the way it always should have been.”

“It’s going to take schools in the South a long time to abide by that law, Lydia, even if the Supreme Court passes it.”

“How come?”

“People are afraid to change ideas and beliefs they grew up with, even when those ideas stem from hate and ignorance.”

“I don’t see how anybody could hate you, Mrs. Nowling.”

“Thank you, Lydia. That’s where the ignorance comes in for some people—hating what you don’t know or even try to understand.”

It was hard for me to figure out what she was saying,
but then I thought about how them doctors and nurses treated BJ and Jake. “It’s not just in the South, is it?” I said.

“No, Lydia. Ignorance and hate are diseases that can affect people of all colors and backgrounds. That’s why I want to teach—to help children develop skills so that they can overcome whatever obstacles other people try to place in their path. I want them to live happy and fulfilling lives.”

“Was it hard to teach kids after losing Jake?” I was thinking about how hard it was for me to see them little tykes at Halloween.

“I think teaching saved me,” Mrs. Nowling said, and smiled.

When we finished eating, we walked over to the lobby and sat down in them couches and chairs. No one else was there. Uncle William said, “Excuse me. I need to get something from the car.” When he comed back, he had the magic dulcimer wrapped in Gran’s sunshine quilt. He laid it on the little table in front of one of the couches. I ain’t never been so shocked in all my livelong life!

“Well, come on, Lydia,” Uncle William said. “You know I can’t play this by myself.” He squatted down on the floor on one side of the table. I laughed and sat on the other side. We both said:

Then we started up playing and even Aunt Ethel Mae sung along. We told jokes and stories, and sung all evening. People coming in and out of the lobby would stop and listen. Some of them even joined in. The lady at the desk said the hotel should hire us for entertainment. After we went to our rooms, I told Aunt Ethel Mae I was going to use the desk in the lobby to work on some homework. I worked a few math problems so I didn’t feel like I lied to her, but then I commenced to write in this here notebook. I want to remember ever single thing that happened today.

I feel all tuckered out but safe and happy—not afeared about tomorrow like I thought I would be. I think I’ll get me a good night’s sleep, dreaming about seeing my mama again.

W
EDNESDAY
, M
ARCH 10, 1954

Today I woke up confident and rested and all ready to speak up for my mama. I sure wish it would have lasted. When I put on my new dress and lipstick and nylons, I felt all growed up and real strong. But later, it was like I had fell deep down into a dark, damp well of them old feelings.

Me and Uncle William and Aunt Ethel Mae ate breakfast at the hotel. Doc Smythson and Pastor John stayed with a friend of Doc’s last night. Mrs. Nowling stayed with her cousin. Mr. Hinkle stayed at his parents’ house. They live on a farm not too far from here. He planned to drive in early to the city to meet Miss Parker at her parents’
house for breakfast. We was all going to meet up at the courthouse at eight. The trial would start up at nine.

I had me some pancakes and orange juice. Aunt Ethel Mae just had toast and hot tea. She kept saying stuff like “I sure do wish we didn’t have to go through this today. I feel a headache coming on. I don’t know how you’re going to deal with all this, Lydia. A young’un shouldn’t ought to have to testify. I ain’t figured out how I’m going to make myself take that stand without passing out.”

Uncle William didn’t say nothing. He just kept his eyes on his breakfast of fried eggs, sausage, and biscuits, shoveling the food in his mouth. Sometimes I think Uncle William is deaf, but only when it comes to Aunt Ethel Mae.

The more Aunt Ethel Mae carried on, the more my pancakes started up tasting like rubber. My stomach felt like I was a-swallowing rocks. I finally gived up trying to eat.

Uncle William paid the bill, and then he drove us to the courthouse. We had to drive a piece to get surrounded by all them big buildings. Aunt Ethel Mae was still a-carrying on, but I think I caught Uncle William’s deafness to her.

I stared out the window of the car. Ohio is so flat. It’s like driving on one of them pancakes I had for breakfast. Gran used to say the sun comed up at your toenails in the morning and set back down on your toenails of an evening when we was in Ohio. It always makes me feel like I don’t have no clothes on, driving around up here—like
anything bad could come up on me, and I wouldn’t have nowhere to hide. Today I wished I was in the mountains again, all safe.

Uncle William let me and Aunt Ethel Mae out in front of the courthouse while he went to park. As we walked inside the door, Aunt Ethel Mae said, “Here we go to face who knows what.”

My stomach knotted up tighter inside me.

Miss Parker and everbody else who was here to help my mama was squashed up in a circle at the other end of the big hallway outside the courtroom.

“Over here,” Miss Parker called to us, and waved her hand. “Lydia and Ethel Mae, you look beautiful.” Miss Parker touched my ponytail and then my shoulder as she smiled at me.

“Do you like my hat?” Aunt Ethel Mae said as she patted it real light. “I added the feathers to make it look like the hats them movie stars wear.” I caught myself afore I rolled my eyes like Uncle William always does.

“Uh, it’s lovely,” Miss Parker said. Then she hurry-up changed the subject. “Reverend Legg has asked if he could lead us in prayer, and I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

So we all held hands and bowed our heads. Pastor John said his prayer. I didn’t hear his words on account of praying my own prayer in my heart.
Please, God. Please let my mama out of that jail. Please, God, please!
I heard Pastor John say amen, and everbody else said amen real long and loud. Me, too.

Then Miss Parker spoke. “We’ll be going in soon, and I would like for all of you to sit as close as you can behind Sarah,” she said. “We want the jury to see that she has as much support as possible.”

“I wish I could sit aside her,” I said. I sure did hope she would say I could.

“Lydia, let’s sit a minute on this bench,” she said. She sent all the other folks on into the courtroom.

We sat down together. “I’ve thought a lot about this, Lydia,” Miss Parker told me. “And I’ve decided that you will not be in the courtroom until you need to testify.”

I felt tears crowding up my eyes. “Please, I want to be close to my mama.”

She sighed. “I know you do, Lydia, but the prosecuting attorney is going to do everything he can to make your mother look bad. There’s no reason for you to hear it.”

“But I done heard it in that other trial. I can handle it this time. I know it.”

She sighed again. “It’s not a matter of whether you can handle it, Lydia. It’s a matter of whether you should hear it. It’s going to be worse this time. Your mother’s other lawyer was incompetent. The prosecutor knows how skilled I am. He’s going to do everything he can to make sure your mother stays in jail.”

I looked at the ground. I didn’t feel all growed up anymore. I was a little kid again. “I’m the one that be incompetent,” I told her. “That’s what the judge said. You think so, too.”

“Lydia, look at me.” I still looked at the ground. “Look at me!” she said louder. She put her finger under my chin and lifted up my face.

I looked at her.

“You know that’s not true. You must trust me. It’s not just about your having to hear them do that to your mother. You need to think of your mother, too. How do you think she’s going to feel, knowing that you’re there hearing them say everything they can to make her look bad?”

I looked down at the ground again. “She would feel awful—real sad,” I said softly.

“That’s right. She doesn’t need to be thinking about what’s going on with you. She needs to be thinking about her defense.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.”

“It’s okay, Lydia. I know this is hard. I’ve arranged a room for you to stay in. It might be several hours before your turn to speak. It might even be tomorrow. I’ve left a few presents in the room so you’ll have something to do while you wait. Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be.”

We walked down the hallway and she opened the door. I didn’t go in. “This is the same room,” I told her.